


Found Family

by Kiunlo



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Healing from an injury, Hidden Village, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Character, Malnourished, Malnutrition, Non-binary character, Orc Village, Orcs, Orcs adopting a human into their village, Platonic Relationships, Starvation, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21536203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiunlo/pseuds/Kiunlo
Summary: There was no doubt in Durmor's mind: there was a shaman hiding in those bushes, and whatever had happened to them had angered the elements greatly.Durmor had no clue as to how the shaman had ended up in such a state, but they obviously needed help. He would have to continue his hunt later. Now, his first priority was getting this shaman back to the village, and making sure they got some good food to eat while they healed.
Relationships: Original Character & Original Character
Kudos: 9





	Found Family

**Author's Note:**

> Idk why I decided that working on more than one fic was a good idea, but here I am *shrug*
> 
> Inspired by a conversation that happened in the yamyell (garrosh) discord server. thanks for giving me so many ideas guys!

It was just supposed to be a simple hunting trip.

Durmor had split off from the hunting party to go after a stray deer, while the others continued hunting other prey such as elk and boar.

Their small village was inconspicuous in the dark and dense forest where they had made a home. There were no Alliance camps to found _anywhere_ near their village, and even if there had been, no human would be so stupid to go so deep into the forest that was as almost easy to get lost in as it was to breathe air.

But it also meant that their village was entirely off the radar from their _own_ faction, as well. They had hidden themselves so well from the Alliance, that their own brothers and sisters of the Horde could not find them either; It was both a blessing and a curse. They had to be able to sustain themselves as much as possible because of these circumstances, and so they went on hunts each month to stock up on meat, fur and bones.

They did not need to hunt very often, as they preserved their meat well enough that it could be kept fresh and edible for months before it started to become rotten. The forest was also far too dense to be able to grow any traditional crops, so they stuck to farming the local fruits and vegetables that they knew weren't poisonous.

Durmor had started to lose track of the deer's scent amongst the thick trees and bushes, and decided that being in a more _primal_ form would be more efficient. He called upon the elements as his body transformed from one of an orc to that of a spirit wolf, and he was urged into the hunt again as he caught a whiff of the deer that had begun to elude him. Once he caught this deer, his family and the rest of the village would finally be able to eat fresh meat for the first time in weeks.

Of course, things couldn't ever just be _simple_ for Durmor, could they?

He'd picked up an odd scent of something that he'd not quite recognised half way into the chase, and as he got closer to the scent, his ears picked up the whimpering of a sick and hurt creature lying down in the shelter of some nearby bushes. What was _truly_ odd, however, was that he could feel the elements _swirling_ around this creature with conflicted and chaotic energy. The elements were sad, distraught, confused and very, very _angry_.

There was no doubt in his mind: there was a shaman hiding in those bushes, and whatever had happened to them had angered the elements _greatly_. The shaman obviously had a strong connection with the elements if _they_ were personally offended by what had happened to an individual shaman.

Durmor approached cautiously, opening his mind to the elements in the hopes to calm them, to let them know that he wasn't going to cause any harm, that he only wished to help out a fellow shaman. The elements seemed to ease a little bit, but they were still cautious of his presence. Nonetheless, they allowed him to come close to the injured shaman hiding in the bushes, and as he came closer, he realised he was looking at a much smaller spirit wolf.

Durmor shifted out of his own wolf form and carefully pulled the other shaman out of the bushes to assess their injuries properly.

They had quite a few healed over wounds littered about their body, but the biggest injury had to have been the one around the shaman's back right leg. The fur was all gone and some of the skin was too, and it smelled of infection. It looked like they'd walked into an animal trap of sorts, and had managed to escape, but the injury hadn't been given time to heal. What was also quite troubling was how _skinny_ they looked. They were definitely malnourished, and as he looked closer he could see that their fur was matted and ungroomed, and they didn't look to be entirely conscious despite the noises of pain they made.

Durmor had no clue as to how the shaman had ended up in such a state, but they obviously needed help. He would have to continue his hunt later. _Now_ , his first priority was getting this shaman back to the village, and making sure they got some good food to eat while they healed.

* * *

When Durmor returned to the village, his aunt had already prepared a warm bed of furs for the injured and unconscious shaman in his arms, and he wondered if she too had felt the unease of the elements as he had. No one said anything to him about returning to the village without a kill, and he was glad for it. They all knew that right now, there were more pressing things to be concerned about.

He was led into his aunt's hut, and he set the small mangy spirit wolf down onto the furs. He pushed the furs over and around the small shaman so that they were huddled in a sort of nest, and gave his aunt some space so she could start on her work to heal the strange new shaman.

Kulshiir was the best healer in the entire village, and although Durmor's training had led him into becoming a great healer, some things were best left to the experts. His aunt would be able to help this poor shaman, and Durmor knew he would learn something new about healing from her example. Hopefully _he'd_ be able to help, too.

Kulshiir was entirely focused on her task, calling upon all of the elements for healing, strength and resilience, knowing that her patient would need all the strength that they could get. She'd already prepared some solvents and bandages for the shaman's poor leg, and once she was done communicating with the elements, she set about cleaning the wound. The elements danced around her fingers enthusiastically as they helped with the healing process. Eventually she'd cleaned and healed the wound as much as she was able to, and she turned her attention to dressing the wound as carefully as possible.

Once Kulshiir had finished dressing the shaman's wounds, she grabbed the flask of mixed tea she had prepared beforehand. She had no idea what kind of nutrient deficiencies the shaman before her might be dealing with, so she'd prepared this specific tea just in case. There wasn't a lot, but the elements had told her that the shaman that her nephew brought with them was small and skinny, and so she did not want to overwhelm the little shaman's stomach. Kulshiir had healed malnourished patients before, and she knew from experience that trying to feed them too quickly could make things worse rather than better.

She leaned over and opened up the shaman's mouth to carefully pour the tea in, stopping every few seconds so they could swallow it. They were still unconscious, after all, and she did not want to accidentally drown them.

After all the tea had been drunk, she put the flask back in her pocket and pulled the furs closer to the other shaman so that they would be nice and warm.

Durmor had been watching his aunt the entire time, seeing how she used the elements as she healed, and how she did _not_ immediately feed the shaman. Kulshiir seemed to have known exactly what he was thinking, for she spoke, "We can not feed them… at least not yet. They will have to be awake, and we cannot feed them too much too quickly or they will just bring it back up. Starvation is not something that can be overcome so easily."

Durmor hummed and nodded in response, seeming to understand his aunt's reasoning. "And they'll be alright?" He asked. Kulshiir sighed quietly in response. "We cannot know for certain until they wake up and come out of their wolf form."

Kulshiir took one last look at the sleeping form of the spirit wolf bundled in furs before she got up and exited the hut. "I will need to go get more herbs and healing foods. You'll need to stay here and keep an eye on them until I come back. Just in case they wake up."

Durmor nodded and gave his aunt a hug before she left. "Of course. Stay safe, auntie."

Durmor did not take his eyes off his auntie until she had disappeared from his sight, into the forest. Only then did he go back into the hut, sitting down next to the unconscious form that he was told to watch over. He pulled out a totem of healing, deciding that if he was going to watch over them, he might as well make good use of that time to further the healing process.

"Whoever you are, I pray that you get better."

* * *

The shaman had still not woken up when Kulshiir had returned, but neither she nor her nephew had expected them to. She had only been gone for a few hours, and Kulshiir had told Durmor that it was unlikely they'd wake up until a few days had passed. They already had no idea how long the shaman had been unconscious for, so for now...it was a game of patience.

Durmor got to work on helping his aunt prepare the herbs and food for when the shaman finally woke up. As he did so, he started to think of reasons for why the shaman had become so injured and in need of help.

It was obvious to Durmor that the reason they'd gotten skinny was because their injury had prevented them from hunting, which had caused them to starve. What didn't make as much sense to him was how they'd stepped into a trap in the first place. Most shaman were aware that they were just as capable of being caught in a snare or trap as any other wild animal when they were in their spirit wolf form, which was why most shaman went the extra mile to ensure that they _didn't_ get caught in a trap. They stuck to the roads and paths that people took, and kept track of where hunters often set their traps up in the first place.

Either this shaman was completely oblivious and unaware of the dangers of wandering around in the forest alone…or perhaps someone had _purposefully_ set that trap up for them. The thought of that made Durmor's temper rise a bit, but he forced himself to focus. It was only a _possibility_ . No one would know for sure what had happened or _why_ until the shaman woke up.

If they ever woke up at all.

* * *

Word had quickly spread throughout the village of a strange new shaman that had been brought to one of the village's healing huts; A shaman stuck in their spirit wolf form who had been unconscious, injured and skinny beyond belief. A few of the teenagers and younger children had tried to sneak closer to the healer's hut in order to get a closer look at the new shaman, but Kulshiir had quickly shooed them away, telling the children that the shaman needed their rest and could not have any visitors.

Other shaman had come by to help Kulshiir and Durmor with the healing process and offered their own prayers, which had been very appreciated. Herbalists came by to resupply Kulshiir’s own dwindling supply of herbs so she would not need to be kept from her primary focus. With the help from the community, the wound had healed quite quickly, and it wouldn't be long before the fur grew back, however after extensive exploration of the injury, Kulshiir had come to the conclusion that it was likely the shaman would be permanently disabled from the injury. Fur and skin was definitely capable of growing back, but if the trap they had caught themselves in was as big as the standard traps that their own hunters used, Kulshiir was certain that bone, tendons and muscles had been severely damaged. _No_ amount of help from the elements could replace lost tendons or permanently damaged nerves.

Unless a miracle of the ancestors occurred, there was no way this little spirit wolf was going _anywhere_. They would have to stay, perhaps even _permanently_ , if the damage was as severe as she feared. They might need a cane, or perhaps would need to be entirely off their feet for a few months before they could walk again properly. The healing process would be far more extensive than what Kulshiir had originally thought it would be, but she swore to herself and the elements that she would do her absolute best to help them.

She just hoped that they would wake up soon. It was the second day of unconsciousness, and Kulshiir believed it might be mostly due to malnutrition and starvation. She had been ensuring that liquids had been making it into the spirit wolf’s body, but she would not be able to ensure that they woke up.

She sighed, and prayed to the elements for the second time that day.

Outside the confines of the village, Durmor had ventured into the dark forests with a few older hunters, hoping to finish off what he’d started. It was unlikely that he’d be able to find the exact same deer that he’d been chasing after before, but he hoped he would at least be able to chase down some prey that was just as big and meaty. He’d been itching to feel the crunch of bone in his jaws for a while now, and had been disappointed at the prospect of not being able to do so until _next_ month came around.

Durmor wouldn’t admit it, but he also did not like being a burden on his other village-mates. He’d brought home an injured shaman that he knew his auntie and other shaman would fuss over until they were at full health again, and he’d not even brought back a kill to justify bringing back an unknown injured person. He knew that the other villagers were understanding and kind- but he couldn’t shake the thought that he wasn’t doing _enough_ for his community, so he promised to himself that he would bring back a kill that night, and hope he did not come across another person in dire need of help.

* * *

When Durmor had come back to the village from his hunt, one of the warriors had come running up to him and practically yanked the deer out of his hands before pushing him further into the village. He was entirely taken aback and was about to protest and ask what the hell the other orc was doing, but they already had an answer for him. “Healer Kulshiir is requesting your presence- _now!_ It’s urgent! Go!”

Durmor could only take a guess as to what his auntie needed of him, and he feared that something terrible had happened.

He ran as quickly as he could, trying to avoid bumping into anyone as he weaved through different groups of orcs that were in his way. They all quickly got out of the way, especially once they saw the look of determination and focus on Durmor’s face as he sprinted through the centre of the village.

Durmor only just managed to stop himself from barrelling into the hut like a panicked animal, and quickly composed himself before he entered his auntie’s hut.

He sighed a breath of relief when he saw that nothing looked out of place. His auntie was okay and nobody looked to be dead, but he took a double take at the shaman that he and his auntie had been attempting to heal.

They were awake. And they looked _very_ unhappy.

The spirit wolf had backed themselves up against the hut’s walls, furs still covering them, and they growled and bared their teeth at Durmor’s presence. He did not approach them or even try to get any closer, knowing that if he did so, the shaman might not be the only one spending time in his auntie’s hut. He slowly sat down next to his aunt who was on the opposite side of the hut, and though the shaman stopped baring their teeth, they were still looking at him with caution and suspicion.

Kulshiir’s voice was quiet as she spoke. “They woke up ten minutes ago, and seemed quite scared of my presence. They almost bit me when I got too close, but I believe they are simply scared rather than dangerous or aggressive. I’ve also not been able to get them to speak.”

Durmor seemed to consider his auntie’s words for a moment. “You’re certain they’re not feral? I’ve not seen a shaman ever act like that before..”

Kulshiir scoffed, albeit quietly. “ _You_ may not have, dear nephew, but _I_ have. And not just with shaman, but with many different people of all walks of life. This is the behaviour of someone who has been _hurt_ , not just physically, but emotionally- _spiritually_. Maybe somebody wronged them, or someone they thought they could trust betrayed them, but whatever the case may be, they need immediate attention and help. We won’t be able to continue to heal them or even _feed_ them if they will not let us go near them.” She explained.

Durmor looked back over to the now-wide awake shaman. They were obviously straining to hear them speak, but he had no idea if they could even understand him and Kulshiir. For all he knew, they could be a lost _Alliance_ pup. It would certainly explain the fearful aggression, but Durmor kept that thought to himself. He’d have to wait until they came out of their wolf form before he could make that sort of judgement.

“You want _me_ to help them open up, don’t you?” He asked. Kulshiir smiled. “Of course. You are gentle and kind, but you’ve not yet had any experience in healing someone’s spirit. I think now would be a perfect time for you to start learning, for we shaman do not just heal the land or people’s physical injuries, we also heal the _soul_. You _need_ to know how to heal the soul, not just for other people’s benefit, but for your _own_ as well.”

Durmor hummed in agreement. Kulshiir continued, “You will not be doing it by yourself of course, since it will be your first time doing something like this. Those that are fearful will not be so willing to trust others, but I believe that your empathetic and gentle nature will help you in building up that trust.”

Durmor sighed, releasing all the negative energy out with the help of the elements. It would be easier to help this hurt shaman if he were calm. “I will do whatever it takes. I promise you that, auntie.”

“I believe you, with all my gut. Just remember all that you’ve been taught, and remember to not focus too much on yourself, but rather on the person you’re trying to _help_. They need you to _understand_ them, not pity them.”

“I understand, auntie.”

“Good. Now, what are you going to do first?”

Durmor chewed on his bottom lip in contemplation. “I have an idea, but I’ll have to be patient, and I’m not entirely sure it will even work…”

Kulshiir put a hand on his arm in reassurance. “Try it. If you think it has a possibility of getting them to trust you, then just give it a go. As long as it’s not invasive or counter intuitive, it should cause no harm.”

“Alright, but I’ll have to be alone with them.”

“Whatever works, Durmor. I will give you and the shaman some space, and I will come back at sundown to see how you are progressing....Ancestors guide you, dear.”

"Ancestors guide you, auntie.."

Kulshiir left the hut with a gentle grace in order to not disturb the frightened shaman, and Durmor quickly found himself alone with them. After a few minutes of contemplating what to do, Durmor got to work on making some tea for the shaman, so they could get their nutrients up.

Once Durmor had finally made the tea, he let it cool down until it was lukewarm, and poured it into a wooden bowl. He grabbed the bowl and raised from his sitting position, and slowly walked over to the huddled ball of fur in the corner, not going any closer than was necessary before putting it down on the ground in front of them. He then backed up again, and turned into his own spirit wolf form as he laid down, closing his eyes.

Durmor was hoping that if he let himself be vulnerable and simply kept his distance, that the other shaman would realise that he was no threat, and allow themselves to open up more, and become more trusting of him.

He kept his eyes closed even as he started to hear the shaman slowly lapping up the tea, likely still in wolf form from the sound of the tea splashing around a bit as they drank. Durmor allowed himself to doze off a little bit, knowing that the other shaman was unlikely to hurt him due to their injuries.

He stayed like that for a long while, sometimes half-asleep and half-awake, but _always_ listening to what the injured shaman was doing whenever they made any noise. He did not open his eyes, however, for he wanted them to be comfortable in his presence, so he continued to pretend that he was asleep.

He did not realise that he had _actually_ fallen asleep, however, until he'd woken up.

Durmor lifted his head quickly on instinct, trying to see through his still-blurry and tired eyes, looking for the other shaman. His movement startled the smaller being, and they backed up away from him, as though they had come closer in order to investigate. Durmor cursed to himself in his mind.

_I was obviously making some progress...and I just had to ruin it, didn’t I?_

He slowly put his head back down, and shifted to lay down on his side, hoping it would make him seem more approachable. He wouldn’t usually put himself in a submissive position around someone he didn’t know, but he promised his auntie that he would do all he could to help this hurt shaman. Besides, he was willing to take the risk. The little pup was unlikely to put their jaws around his neck, and even if they did, his thick skin and fur would protect him.

Durmor huffed out a sigh and kept his eyes open this time, simply observing the other shaman. They were staring at him, observing his body language carefully for any sign of aggression or insincerity. Durmor lifted his head only slightly to sniff at the air, in the smaller shaman’s direction, hoping that the gesture would come off as him being curious.

The other shaman did the same in return, though with less enthusiasm as Durmor did, still very wary of his presence. Durmor wagged his tail in response, and that first display of friendliness from the orc was what spurred on the other’s confidence.

The smaller shaman moved closer to him, skittish and uncertain. They moved carefully, avoiding putting any weight on their injured leg. Durmor put his head back down onto the ground and relaxed his entire body, tail wagging slowly. They came only close enough so that their noses could touch, sniffing each other in hopes of learning more through each other’s scent. It was a small step in the right direction, and Durmor wasn’t able to feel disappointed when the small spirit wolf retreated back to their nest of furs in the corner.

It was a good start.


End file.
